


Between Life and Death

by siriuslyannoyed



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Hurt, Memory Loss, Psychological Trauma, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Stucky if you squint, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?, steve is just trying to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyannoyed/pseuds/siriuslyannoyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead he was left with faded memories, backbreaking guilt, and a metal arm.</p><p>Bucky Barnes contemplates his current struggles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Life and Death

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry in advance for this

The more he thought about the past, the more Bucky Believed that he would have been better off if he had been left to die in that snowy gorge ofter he fell from the train. 

Instead he was left with faded memories, backbreaking guilt, and a metal arm.

Most days, he wanted to just rip the damn thing off. Each time he saw the silvery fingers that moved with the same fluidity as the ones on his other hand, he grimaced. It was a reminder of the people he killed, the wrong he'd done, and the omnipresent influence of HYDRA.

He had nightmares most nights. Usually of torture chambers and watching the light leave the eyes of some unassuming politician. Steve tried to help. Bucky was thankful for that, but it didn't change the fact that some nights, he sunk into a fitful sleep, wishing that he wouldn't wake up the next morning. 

He would stare at himself in the bathroom mirror, shirtless, and look upon his scarred shoulder.  His skin was mangled by scars from the fall, the attachment of the new arm itself, and the numerous times that he had tried to cut the foreign appendage away after saving Steve and escaping HYDRA. He would look at the arm until it made him sick and caused his head to spin. Often, he would get frustrated and slam his cold, metal fist on the tile counter, cracking a few tiles. Steve never said anything, but in a few days, the cracked tiles would be gone and replaced with new ones. 

Steve had a few pictures from the 30's and 40's. He tried to explain what they were doing when the photos were taken, but all talk about Coney Island, snowball fights, and birthday parties would become muffled in Bucky's ears. When he looked at the photos, he saw a two different people in a different lifetime. Steve looked smaller. Bucky looked... happy. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled, or if he was even capable of doing so.

Sometimes, his mind would work against him. He would forget what he had for dinner last night, or if he left the stove on, or where Steve's apartment was, or even his own name. Once again, he would be in the mindset of The Winter Soldier or The Asset, or some other bullshit title that made him stop feeling like an actual living, breathing human being with feelings.

Other times, he would convince himself that everything Steve said was a lie. That Steve's best friend, the handsome, honorable, and charismatic James Buchanan Barnes, was only a fictional character created to help Bucky feel some sort of purpose again. To pump his brain full of more and more false memories until he believed they were true. But he'd never admit that to Steve. He would never admit that every time they sat on the couch to talk about their teenage year and their feelings, there was a shred of doubt in his mind that was completely and utterly tearing him apart. Steve was the one person who cared and Bucky wasn't going to let his own self doubt destroy Steve as well.

He didn't get a choice between life and death. The limp and broken body of James Buchanan Barnes was dragged through the snow by some HYDRA agent and was reassembled to fit the criteria of an assassin. He didn't get a choice with what he did from day to day. Time and time again, he was wiped clean and released to kill another person, just a mission to complete. Bucky didn't get a choice between life and death, but if the question was still on the table, he would have chosen to end it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! tbh this was not supposed to be this sad, but civil war already has me fucked up and it doesnt even come out for a couple more weeks. feel free to message me on tumblr starkillerxx.tumblr.com if you want to talk about bucky or anything else because i have a lot of feelings and i want more friends that will go to the ends of the earth for bucky barnes.


End file.
